


O Father of Mine

by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)



Series: Adara Birthday Celebration [23]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidental Relationship, Didn't Know They Were Dating, Don’t copy to another site, Fluff, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, M/M, Made For Each Other, Sheriff Stilinski Knows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 14:14:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17163461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wasterella/pseuds/isthatbloodonhisshirt
Summary: “He told me he understood, and that he was happy we were both happy, and that if I hurt you he knew how to kill a Werewolf and where to hide a body.”Stiles paused in his task of spooning rice onto one of the plates, giving Derek a weird look. “My dad had a similarly confusing discussion with me this morning,” he admitted.“Yeah, I’m not sure I understand what he was talking about.”They stared at one another for a long while in silence.“Dude,” Stiles finally said. “Does my dad think we’re dating?”“Is that what that was?” Derek asked.





	O Father of Mine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [adara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adara/gifts).



> Happy Birthday [Adara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adara/pseuds/adara)!!!
> 
> Teen Wolf (c) Jeff Davis

“Shit!”

Stiles jerked awake at the movement beside him, letting out an unhappy grunt when someone practically stepped on him while continuing to curse. He arched his back, lying on his stomach and hugging his pillow while turning to look over his shoulder at Derek, who was getting his boots on while looking around for his jacket.

“Why did you feel the need to wake me up while you have whatever crisis this is?” Stiles asked sleepily, letting his head fall back onto his pillow.

“I’m late for work,” Derek insisted, grabbing at his jacket and beginning to yank it on. “I’ll call you later.”

“Mm,” Stiles muttered, eyes closed and thoughts of Derek completely gone from his mind. It was way too early for this kind of insanity.

He heard Derek stumble out of the room, making far too much noise for a Werewolf, in his opinion. He must’ve bumped into his dad, because he greeted him quickly before disappearing out the front door. Stiles just buried his face further into his pillow, groaning and hoping he could go back to sleep.

It wasn’t like he’d _asked_  Derek to come over and help with the research. Derek had invited himself over. If Derek was late for work, it was entirely his own fault. Stiles hadn’t told him to come over, and he definitely hadn’t told him to sleep over. But, Derek did that sometimes. He’d show up with coffee and some kind of snack food, they’d sit for hours staring at their endless supply of useless information, and eventually they’d pass out.

Derek had passed out first this time, taking up almost half of Stiles’ bed, since that was where he’d been doing his part of the research. Stiles had to actually shake him awake to get him to move over because moving Derek on his own was impossible. The guy was literally all muscle, _and_  a Werewolf. Stiles was lucky he didn’t get crushed under his weight whenever Derek accidentally rolled over in the night.

Stiles was more than ready to go back to sleep, because it was a day off for him and by God, he’d earned it! He had more than earned it with all the life or death bullshit he always had to research on, so he deserved this day off! He deserved to _sleep_!

So of _course_ , his father knocked on his door.

He let out a pitiful moan and covered his head with his blanket. He didn’t know what time it was, but it was too early. Much too early. He’d finally passed out at four thirty-seven in the morning, and whatever time it was, it was _too early_!

“Stiles? Are you up?”

“No,” he whined, because maybe if he sounded pathetic enough, his dad would go away.

No dice, apparently, because his door opened and he heard his father walk into the room. The bed sagged a little and Stiles sighed, knowing he wouldn’t have come in if it wasn’t important. Probably worried about the next big bad they were spending all their time researching.

“Dad, I told you, it’s nothing for you to worry about,” he insisted, pulling the covers off his head and twisting slightly so he could look over at his dad with bleary eyes.

He frowned at the expression on his face. Something akin to guilt, though he had no idea why he was feeling guilty.

“I just bumped into Derek,” he said quietly, like he was worried speaking too loudly would... Stiles didn’t even know. “Guess he spent the night?”

“Yeah, he passed out before I did,” Stiles said, finally giving up on the whole sleep thing and forcing himself into a seated position, turning to fully face his dad and bending one leg, raking one hand through his hair. “It was a long night.”

“Right.” His dad let out a small breath. “He’s been around a lot the past few months. You’ve been spending a lot of time together.”

Had they? Stiles hadn’t noticed. He supposed it made sense, the two of them tended to be fairly attuned to each other’s habits and researching skills. Plus Derek made _great_  pancakes, so Stiles had definitely passed out on his couch on purpose a few times.

Actually, now he was sad Derek had run out of his house like his ass was on fire, Stiles probably could’ve gotten pancakes if he hadn’t been late for work.

“I’m sorry, Stiles.”

Thoughts of pancakes left him at the apology and Stiles focussed back on his father, frowning in confusion.

“For what?”

He let out a slow breath before saying, “I’m really sorry I told you that you weren’t gay when you were younger. I’m sorry I wasn’t supportive, and that I judged you too harshly because you didn’t fit a stereotype I shouldn’t even have joked about. I didn’t mean to... I never wanted you to think I wasn’t going to be understanding. I never, ever want you to think this isn’t okay, you understand?”

“What?” Stiles asked, because clearly he was still sleep-brained because what?

“I promise to be better. I’ll be supportive from now on, so don’t feel like you need to hide anything from me, okay?” He patted Stiles’ cheek lightly and smiled a little. “Can’t say I ever thought Derek would be my first choice for you, but I’m just glad you’re happy, son. He turned out to be a great kid. You guys are really good together and I’m glad you’ve found each other.”

Stiles stared at him. He was _obviously_  mishearing because what?

“What?” he said again.

“We don’t have to talk about it now,” the sheriff insisted, checking his watch. “Actually, I need to head to the station, anyway. But I just wanted you to know I love you, and I support you, and we’ll have a chat about this again real soon. I want to know everything I missed.” He leaned forward to kiss Stiles’ forehead, told him to go back to sleep, then headed out of the room, shutting the bedroom door behind him.

Stiles stared at it for a good long while, listening to his father walk down the corridor, and then down the stairs.

“What?”

* * *

Stiles was chewing on the end of his pen while staring at his notes, eyes occasionally going unfocussed before he realized he wasn’t paying attention and forcing them back into focus once more. It was difficult to keep track of what he was doing because he was so fucking tired. Not to mention he hadn’t finished any of the additional research he’d started with Derek the night before, but it was just really hard when he knew this paper was looming.

Derek had texted to say he was coming back after his shift, and that he’d be bringing dinner, so Stiles was pretty excited about that. It also meant Derek would probably be doing the research while Stiles got to pretend to work on this paper while actually just sleeping with his eyes open.

Being a protector of the town as well as a university student was hard. Stiles wanted a vacation, a _real_  vacation. One where he didn’t have to use his free time researching how to get rid of a Myling or figure out how to cure someone of Ondines venom. Which he’d had to do before because, apparently, this was his life.

He heard the front door open, and while he didn’t react externally because he lacked the energy, he threw a fucking party internally because that was Derek and he probably had food. Stiles really liked food, and he loved Derek when he was accompanied by food.

Thirty seconds later, his bedroom door opened and he turned to eagerly hold out both hands for the take-out bag, but frowned when he saw the look on Derek’s face.

Derek seemed to be confused, which wasn’t necessarily a new expression for him, but it was one Stiles didn’t often see the moment Derek showed up. Usually there was a lead-up to the confused look he was currently sporting.

“Everything okay, big guy?” Stiles asked, making grabby hands until Derek shut the bedroom door and moved forward, handing over the bag so Stiles could divvy it up between them.

Stiles _had_  to be the one to divvy it up, because whenever Derek bought food to share, he forgot he was a Werewolf and tended to eat virtually all of it so they’d decided long ago Stiles was in charge of splitting the food.

“I ran into your dad while I was waiting on the food,” Derek said, taking a seat in Stiles’ spare chair and crossing his arms, still frowning in confusion. “We had an interesting conversation.”

“Where you’re involved, I doubt it was a conversation. It was probably more he spoke and you nodded,” Stiles insisted, smiling a little while pulling the containers out of the bag. It looked like Derek had gone for Indian today. Indian was delicious, Stiles hadn’t had any in months. “Good call on the food.”

He reached into the bottom drawer of his desk where he had a stack of paper plates and plastic cutlery. It was a waste, but it was the only solution he and his father had been able to come up with where Stiles didn’t hog all the dishes in his room because he would eat and then leave his dishes on his desk for weeks on end.

His room smelled bad most of the time, he didn’t know how Derek could survive in it. Habit, he supposed. He was around so much he probably got used to it.

“Yeah, he mostly did the talking,” Derek agreed, still frowning. “He told me he understood, and that he was happy we were both happy, and that if I hurt you he knew how to kill a Werewolf and where to hide a body.”

Stiles paused in his task of spooning rice onto one of the plates, giving Derek a weird look. “My dad had a similarly confusing discussion with me this morning,” he admitted.

“Yeah, I’m not sure I understand what he was talking about.”

They stared at one another for a long while in silence.

“Dude,” Stiles finally said. “Does my dad think we’re dating?”

“Is that what that was?” Derek asked. “I guess it must be. That’s weird, why does your dad think we’re dating? What have you said to him?”

“Nothing,” Stiles insisted with a scoff, returning to spooning food out onto a plate because he was hungry and any revelations his dad may or may not have had were not going to keep Stiles from his dinner. “We spend the night together a lot when we’re doing research, I guess he kind of jumped to his own conclusions.”

“I didn’t correct him,” Derek realized, frowning further. “I didn’t realize that was what he was implying.”

“Yeah, me neither.” Stiles dumped some curry on the plate, then added half a piece of naan bread before licking his fingers and holding it out to Derek, shoving a fork into the mound of rice. “It’s cool, I’ll sort him out when I see him next.”

“What even gave him the impression we were dating?” Derek asked, taking the plate from Stiles and beginning to eat while another plate was being readied. “Scott hangs out here all the time, and he also spends the night. What’s the difference?”

Stiles shrugged, finishing up with his own plate before turning to fully face Derek in his chair and shoving a forkful of rice and butter chicken into his mouth. “Scott doesn’t usually pass out on my bed. Guess dad explained our cuddling with us dating.”

“It’s a Werewolf thing, you know I can’t help that,” Derek insisted with a sigh.

“Hey, no judgement, you’re like a nice, warm heater to me, I have no complaints having you wrapped around me like some kind of weird Were-Octopus.” He grinned.

Derek rolled his eyes and the two of them ate in silence, thinking over what had happened with the sheriff. Stiles served them both some more food and when he was full, he dumped the rest of it onto Derek’s plate and went back to his assignment. Derek hung out on his bed behind him doing some research, occasionally interrupting him to ask his opinion or for him to read something.

Close to two in the morning, Stiles ended up on the bed beside Derek, the two of them looking over the same book and trying to make sense of the Latin because of _course_  it was in Latin. If Stiles were a billionaire, he’d make it his life’s work to just translate books that could be useful to Supernatural causes from Latin to English because it wasn’t fair that all the answers to their problems were in a dead language.

Stiles could feel his attention beginning to wane because he was so tired, and by the time he realized he should call it a night, he’d already passed out with his head on Derek’s shoulder. Thankfully, his wakeup the next morning wasn’t as violent as it had been the day before and he just groaned while coming back to consciousness, a crick in his neck and Derek’s head resting on top of his own.

Shoving lightly at Derek to get him off him, Derek inhaled deeply and opened his eyes, looking around the room blearily before focussing on Stiles.

“Morning,” he mumbled.

Stiles just grunted, because he still wanted to be sleeping right now, but when he went to grab his phone, he saw the time was half past nine and he had a class at eleven. And he _still_  hadn’t finished his assignment.

“Shit,” he muttered, groaning while crawling off the bed and moving back to his computer. He fell into his chair and rubbed his face with both hands, waking it up so he could get back to work. He checked his phone briefly for any missed texts from Scott and when he double tapped the home button so he could swipe away some of his open programs, he frowned when he saw the camera had been used.

Opening it, he went to the last photo taken and groaned, covering his face with his free hand.

His dad had obviously come home after they’d passed out, because there was a picture of the two of them fast asleep with their head together and the sheriff on the edge with a ridiculous smile on his face doing a thumbs-up.

“Dad, really?” Stiles dropped his phone and figured he was really going to have to set him straight.

“Still working on your assignment?” Derek asked, coming up behind him and rubbing at the back of his own head, likely to try and straighten out his hair.

It was unfair, because Derek looked good even with bedhead. That guy was ridiculously attractive, and Stiles thought that shouldn’t be allowed. He couldn’t be a Werewolf _and_  good looking. That was just rude.

“Yeah, it’s due in just under two hours.”

“I’ll get breakfast,” Derek informed him, then turned to leave the room, presumably to do just that.

Stiles sat there and struggled through the end of his paper, brain sluggish and words coming much more slowly than normal. He could’ve kissed Derek when he came back with a pastry bag from the bakery in town and a large coffee.

“My life’s blood,” he said, taking the cup and gulping half of it down. Thankfully Derek knew him well enough to ensure it wasn’t too hot, otherwise he’d have burned himself. “Where’s yours?”

“Finished it in the car,” Derek explained, grabbing one of the paper plates from the bottom drawer and dropping the pastries onto it. He’d bought two chocolate croissants—because he knew Stiles so well, and this was awesome—and a sausage bun. He’d also bought a plain croissant, likely for himself, and he proceeded to tear into it while reading over Stiles’ paper for him, Stiles munching on his own breakfast.

Once the final edits were done, Stiles printed it while Derek finished off his coffee—that was fine, Stiles was done anyway—and Derek offered to give him a ride to school since the Jeep had been acting up.

Stiles took him up on it and they headed out together, Derek dropping him off before heading home to shower so he could go to work. He said he’d drop by later and Stiles waved goodbye to him, heading into campus and pulling his phone out. He stared at the picture his father had taken, sighing deeply and shaking his head.

He really needed to sort this out with his dad.

* * *

“So I talked to my dad,” Stiles informed Derek, cutting into his chicken and sticking a piece into his mouth. “He thinks I’m lying.”

“Why would you be lying?” Derek asked, cocking an eyebrow and playing with the neck of his beer bottle.

Stiles always found it funny that Derek ordered beer whenever they went out for dinner together, because he couldn’t get drunk. And beer did _not_  taste good enough to be a casual drink _without_  the added bonus of intoxication. But, Derek did it anyway.

“I don’t know, I think he thinks I’m worried he’s not okay with this.” Stiles laughed and pointed his empty fork at Derek. “Did you know he said he was _glad_  it was you?”

“Really?” Derek sounded surprised.

“Yeah man. I think he likes the idea of me having a big, scary Werewolf boyfriend.” Stiles waggled his eyebrows and took another bite of his chicken. “Dude, this chicken is fucking _amazing_  considering it’s pub chicken.”

“Yeah? Let me try.” Derek leaned forward and Stiles speared a piece on the tines of his fork, holding it out to Derek. Derek took Stiles’ wrist in his hand to keep the fork steady and wrapped his lips around the end of the fork, pulling the chicken off it before releasing him and sitting back down. He made a noise of agreement while Stiles stabbed into a mini potato.

“Right? It’s good.”

“It’s not bad. Your dad makes it better, though.”

“Hell yeah he does.” Stiles chewed his potato and made a noise. “Oh yeah, dad wants you to come over for dinner next week. It’s his birthday so he invited a bunch of people from the station, Scott and his mom, and a few others from the pack. He wanted me to make sure you were free.”

“What day?” Derek asked, taking a sip of his beer.

“Saturday at seven.”

“Yeah, I should be okay. I think I work the morning shift on Saturday. I’ll double-check and switch out if I have to.” He frowned. “What should I get him?”

“You don’t have to get him anything.”

“I really like and respect your dad, Stiles, I’m getting him something.” He half-shrugged. “I’ll think on it.” He drank the rest of his beer, and when one of the waitresses passed them, he asked for another.

“Is that one even any good?” Stiles asked.

Derek shrugged. “I like it. You should try it.”

Stiles agreed and continued with his meal. When the waitress came back with it, Derek handed the bottle over to him and Stiles took a sip. He wasn’t really into it, but he drank two more sips just to be sure, Derek joking that he was just trying to get free beer before stealing the bottle back and drinking half of it down.

It was a running joke in the pack that the wolves should enter drinking contests and win everyone money given they could chug without any problems, but Derek insisted it was dishonest and always talked them all out of it. Stiles was pretty sure Malia still went out and did it, and Scott usually won at pool games because people thought he was too drunk to play when they saw him knock back four beers in a row, but Derek seemed more interested in trying to be a normal person.

It was kind of adorable, when Stiles really thought about it.

Stiles had driven himself to the pub so he couldn’t drink, but Derek offered to drive him home if he wanted to have a couple of beers so he took him up on that and proceeded to get sufficiently hammered. Not so much he couldn’t stand up straight, but enough that he definitely couldn’t _walk_  straight.

“Separate bills?” the waitress asked when it was clearly time to go.

“Same bill,” Derek corrected and within minutes, he’d paid and helped Stiles to his feet.

Derek laughed while Stiles grabbed at any part of his shoulders that he could, using Derek to stay upright and being hauled out of the pub. Derek got him into the Camaro and drove Stiles home while he dozed in the passenger seat. He didn’t want to wake up when they got there and Derek threatened to carry him if he didn’t get his ass out of the car.

Stiles refused so, true to his word, Derek picked him up and threw him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, walking up Stiles’ driveway with him and heading up the porch steps.

“You have a _great_  ass,” Stiles informed him, since he was getting an up close and personal view of it.

“Thanks, it’s the jeans. You have a great ass, too.” Derek slapped at Stiles’ ass for good measure and he let out an indignant sound just as Derek opened the front door.

He paused on the threshold, and when Stiles started to ask what the holdup was, he heard a deep, long sigh.

“Really, Stiles?” his father’s voice asked.

“Hey,” Stiles insisted, trying to twist so he could see around Derek’s body. He had to plant one hand on his ass to manage to look around his side, pointing a finger of his free hand at his upside down dad. “I am twenty-one years old, I am allowed to get as drunk as I want.”

“Stiles, you’re twenty-two.”

“Like I said, I am twenty-two years old.”

His father sighed and shook his head, motioning Derek towards the stairs.

“Get him to bed before he throws up on my carpet.”

“Rude,” Stiles informed him as Derek walked past him. He still had one hand on Derek’s butt, using it to leverage himself up a bit to point at his father. “You are very rude,” he informed him.

“Good night, Stiles.”

“Rude!” Stiles insisted vehemently, even as Derek laughed, like an asshole.

They made it to Stiles’ room and he bounced once on his bed when he was set down. Derek left the room and Stiles closed his eyes, more than ready for sleep, but then Derek was back and hauling him into an upright position, pressing a glass to his lips.

Stiles obediently drank the water down, and then lay back once more, Derek undoing his shoes and pulling them off, then his socks. He manhandled Stiles around until he could get him under the covers and promised he’d get the Jeep back to his place before morning.

“Night Derek,” Stiles slurred, rolling onto his side and snuggling into his pillow.

“Good night, Stiles.” He headed for the door, but paused before leaving. “By the way, I don’t think the butt-grabbing was helping with making your dad believe we’re not dating.”

“You have a nice ass,” Stiles insisted.

“It’s the jeans. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The door shut.

* * *

Stiles was scowling at the screen in front of him, positive that people watched too much television because the number of websites he was finding that were _entirely unhelpful_ was astounding. All this knowledge on the Supernatural and he was stuck sifting through endless pages of _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ porn.

Sarah Michelle Gellar deserved better, but then, some of the fanart was really good. Like, _really_  good. Maybe Stiles should start taking art courses.

“Okay,” Derek said from beside him, shutting the book he was reading and rubbing his face. “I need a break. I’m gonna go get coffee.”

“Mm,” Stiles said absently, Derek shifting on the couch so he could put the book down on his coffee table.

They’d opted for Derek’s today because Stiles had dropped in after class to check in on him since he’d been attacked rather brutally the night before. He mostly wanted to make sure he was still alive, and of course he was completely fine, but Stiles worried anyway. He hadn’t planned on sticking around, but Derek had started talking about thinking he knew what the monster was, and Stiles had gotten invested and ended up on his couch for the past eight hours.

Actually, he was hungry, too.

“Hey, can you grab some snacks while you’re out?” he asked absently, still scrolling through the pages in front of him while Derek got his jacket on.

“Sure, what are you feeling?” he asked, moving up to the couch once more and leaning against the back of it behind Stiles. “Is that _Buffy_  fanart?”

“Yeah,” he muttered. “It’s about all I can find right now.”

“It’s pretty good.”

“Yeah, it’s not bad,” he agreed.

“Food?”

“Right, uh, I don’t know. Just get me something sweet. Like a chocolate bar or something.”

“Sure thing.” Derek bent down and kissed his temple. “Be right back.”

“See you in a bit,” Stiles said absently, still scrolling.

It took him a few seconds to realize the loft door hadn’t opened, and a few seconds longer to realize exactly why. He glanced up from the screen, staring at the far wall, and wondered if what he thought had happened had actually happened.

Turning to glance over his shoulder at the door, he looked over at Derek, who was giving him a weird look, as if also wondering if that had actually happened.

Clearly it had, or they wouldn’t _both_  be having the exact same thought.

“You just kissed me,” Stiles said.

“I did,” Derek agreed.

Stiles kept staring at him, trying to figure out how to feel about it, but the strange thing was, he didn’t feel anything different. It felt almost... normal. Like Derek did it all the time. Like that was a thing that they did, kiss each other.

“It wasn’t weird,” he informed Derek.

“No, it wasn’t,” Derek agreed.

The two of them kept staring at one another for an exceptionally long time, and Stiles tried to go over everything that they did on a regular basis. They shared food, they shared drinks, Derek often paid for their meals, they hung out _all_  the time, they sat almost on top of each other when they were together, they slept over all the time, they shared beds, they shared clothes, they had really emotional conversations, Derek drove him around every now and then. Wow, it was almost like...

“Are we dating?” Stiles asked, a little surprised. Because everything he’d just thought of sounded an awful lot like dating. Sure, he did some of it with Scott, but only _some_  of it. He wouldn’t share drinks with him. Food, sure, but not drinks. Scott didn’t drive him around to make sure he got places when he needed to get there. They shared clothes sometimes, but not nearly as much as he and Derek did. And Stiles... had a drawer. At Derek’s. Stiles had clothes here.

And Derek had clothes at Stiles’ place, too. Derek actually did _laundry_  at Stiles’ place sometimes. He had his own _toothbrush_.

Shit, Stiles had his own toothbrush at Derek’s, too.

“ _Are_  we dating?” Derek repeated, sounding as surprised as Stiles felt, but clearly going over the same mental list as Stiles himself.

“Shit, I think we’re dating,” Stiles blurted out.

Was that possible? Was that a thing that could happen? People dating without even knowing it? Stiles felt like that couldn’t happen, but looking at the facts, he was totally dating Derek. They were one-hundred percent dating, the only thing they didn’t do was kiss and have sex, and he couldn’t even say _that_  anymore, because Derek had just _kissed him_!

“Your dad is right.”

“My dad is _right_.” Stiles owed his dad an apology. Apparently he _was_  dating Derek, he just hadn’t realized it.

“Huh.” Derek said, still standing by the door with his jacket on. He was staring at the ground, thinking, and Stiles didn’t really know how to proceed. It looked like Derek didn’t, either.

“Hey, can I kiss you?” Stiles asked. Derek looked up at him, eyebrows raised. Stiles just rolled his eyes. “What? We’re _dating_ , might as well make sure you’re a good kisser.”

“That’s not nice,” Derek informed him, but obediently walked back over.

Stiles set down the laptop he’d had on his lap when he saw Derek obey. He shifted on the couch so he was turned around on his knees, hands on the back of it and watching Derek approach. Once he was within arm’s reach, Stiles grabbed the front of his shirt and tugged him closer until Derek was right up against the back of the couch. Stiles wrapped his arms around his neck, tilted his head up, and kissed him.

It was weird how _not_  weird it felt. Kissing Derek. His stubble tickled, but his lips were soft, and he opened his mouth for Stiles, letting him circle his tongue around his. Stiles buried his fingers in Derek’s hair, scratching lightly at his scalp, and Derek’s hands were on his back, sliding under his shirt, splaying across his skin.

When Stiles pulled away, Derek had his bottom lip between his teeth, sucking on it for a few seconds before releasing it. Stiles licked his lips, eyes inspecting every inch of Derek’s face.

“That wasn’t weird,” Derek informed him.

“That was definitely not weird,” Stiles agreed. “How long have we been dating?”

“We should ask your dad, apparently he knows more about our relationship than we do.”

Stiles let out a small laugh, shaking his head, then kissed Derek again. “Go get coffee. And chocolate. And maybe lube. Should we be getting lube?”

“Maybe no lube yet,” Derek informed him. “Let’s transition from ‘we were dating?’ to ‘we’re dating’ before we get the lube.”

“Fair.” Stiles kissed him again. “Okay, back to work. Get the coffee.”

“Be right back.”

They released one another and Derek left the loft, Stiles turning back around and grabbing the laptop to get back to work.

When Derek got back, he handed over the coffee and a few chocolate bars, and sat back down beside Stiles. Everything was perfectly normal, and comfortable. After a few hours, Derek said they should head to bed, so they both brushed their teeth, headed up to bed, and Derek wrapped himself around Stiles like he always did whenever they slept together.

Stiles stayed awake for a while longer, thinking. He was dating Derek. He was actually kind of happy to be dating Derek, because Derek was amazing, and kind, and very giving. He just didn’t understand how his father had known he was dating Derek before _he_  did.

_Well,_ Stiles decided, closing his eyes and pressing back into Derek with a small smile, _if nothing else, at least I get to kiss him whenever I want, now._

It was going to be absolute _hell_  trying to figure out when their anniversary was.

**END.**

**Author's Note:**

> Buffy the Vampire Slayer (c) Joss Whedon 
> 
> Come chill with me on [Tumblr](https://isthatbloodonhisshirt.tumblr.com/).  
> (If it still exists by the time you read this lol)


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